Probation
by Hot Soup11
Summary: Nearly exposing Weiss and Kritiker, Yohji finds himself banned from what got him in trouble in the first place. And who gets the lucky job of keeping Yohji away from women, clubs, and alcohol? Aya, of course... AxY
1. Beer

**Probation**

**Chapter One: "…but the beer won his favor…"**

Author: Hot Soup11

Long fingers grasped the glass bottle in front of bartender, sloppily pouring clear liquid into a small shot glass. The bartender sighed as he watched the alcohol go wasted when it sloshed over the sides and mingled with the condensation the warm atmosphere forced the cool glass to produce. He groped underneath the counter for a rag, found a piece of cloth passing off as sanitary enough in the dingy light, and bunched it up to soak the pool of cheap liquor off the polished countertop. 

"I think you've had enough," the bartender spoke, wincing as cliché line spilt past his lips. His customer didn't move from his slouched over position, cradling the shot glass, but did roll his bottle green eyes up at the bartender.

"Hm. The time?" Surprised, the bartender noticed his speech was only slightly hinting at drunkenness.

"Three ten," he replied after checking his watch briefly. 

"And what's my tab come to?" the customer asked, before draining the contents of the shot glass. 

The bartender thought for a moment, then returned, "Fifty and tax, thereabouts."

He 'hm-ed' again, grabbed the bottle, pressed it against his mouth, and tipped it skyward. "No… I don't think I'll turn in just yet." 

"Listen, we close in twenty minutes… you'll have to head out soon."

"Can I get a to-go bottle, one for the road?" the blonde persisted.

The bartender sighed and replied, "No, I'd be responsible for letting you drive while drinking."

"I took a cab; therefore, I won't be driving. Now how about another bottle of this stuff," he requested while waving the empty bottle in midair.

- - -

Yohji sighed contently, finally feeling drunk after finishing off the bottle bought at the last bar he was at. Although the fuzzy buzzed haze settled over his mind, he still remembered too much for his liking. He staggered--a practiced swagger that a stranger could mistake for a natural stride--toward an all-night convenience store for a pack of beer. 

As he entered the warmer atmosphere of the grocery store, the bright florescent light hit his eyes, dilating them and blinding him temporarily. There were other customers, which, at four in the morning on a Wednesday would have alerted the assassin had he not been intoxicated. 

The lanky man made his way over to the freezers in the back and opened the door, releasing the frosty air and pulled out his choice of beverage. 

"All right! Nobody move this is a hold-up!" Four of the six customers in the convenient store pointed guns in the general direction of the cashier, the pregnant woman currently picking out pastries, and Yohji. 

_I don't want to get involved_, Yohji decided and sat down with his beer, opening one of the cans and taking a long guzzle. He barely registered the conversation between the criminals and the cashier or the woman's sudden screams becoming muffled by a hand. 

"Hey you! Get up!" one of the robbers directed toward Yohji. The blonde considered answering the man, but the beer won his favor and he took another drink out of the plastic rings. "I said get up! I have a gun!"

"Well that's obvious," Yohji muttered sarcastically as he hooked his fingers into the rings connecting the beer cans. He used his legs to push his weight onto the wall, supporting the assassin's body while the gunmen thrust the weapon further into Yohji's view.

The man then ordered, "Now hand over any cash you got on you." 

The blonde glanced over at the near-hysterical woman shakily removing her jewelry and placing it in one of the robber's bags; and the cashier frantically sliding money from the register over the counter. Yohji plucked his wallet out of his back pocket and tossed it at the other man. 

"And your earrings, fag. Don't forget the watch too." 

The money he could get more of, the earrings were replaceable, but his watch? No, they couldn't have his watch. To keep his watch, Yohji decided, he would have to take out each one of them. He put his beers down and slipped his earrings out of the holes in each lobe then tossed the small gold hoops up high aimed at the robber. To catch them, he stumbled backwards, paying attention to the jewelry flashing in the light. 

Yohji released the catch on the said watch, flung out his wire, and disarmed the thief easily as he was distracted. The gun clattered to the dirty tile floor while Yohji kicked his assailant in the stomach. Again he released the wire, targeting the man's esophagus. 

"Ijiri!" the man with a chokehold on the woman exclaimed. The thief guarding the door rushed at Yohji, his gun poised to shoot. Balinese lobbed the man, Ijiri apparently, using his body to block the incoming bullets. After shoving the dying man out of his way, he sought the other man's neck, wire biting into flesh. With bulging eyes, he sought out Yohji, firing aimlessly. A shot connected with a refrigerator door, shattering the glass. Another bullet found its way into the arm of his comrade, who still held gunpoint at the pregnant female. With a final yank of his wire, Yohji crushed his opponent's wind pipe and slacked the hold on the wire. 

The thief fell face forward to the ground when Yohji felt a handgun pressed to the back of his neck. "Get on the floor, bastard." The blonde winced as he was forced onto his stomach to the floor. He heard the unsheathing of a knife, and the man turned over his right hand, palm up. 

A pocketknife, he realized as he screamed while the blade was shoved completely through his hand and lodged into the crack between two tiles. "Uotan, toss me your knife." The wounded man tossed his captive off to the side when she began vomiting violently. He kneeled down, clutching the shot arm, and slid his own knife across the floor to his accomplice. 

It was slow this time. Yohji could feel each tendon ripping apart from the center of his left hand. Blood leaked from the crude incision. He heard the snap of a bone breaking. Still screaming, crying, and writhing from pain, he passed out.

- - - 

When Yohji woke up, he would learn the cashier had triggered the alarm for the police the minute he was left unattended and the late-night pastry-indulger had miscarried. He also would learn he was to be taken into the police headquarters for questioning for possible man-slaughter. 

- - -

"Let's go over this again, just so I understand you correctly. You were out with the _intention_ of becoming drunk, went into the store with the _intention_ of buying beer, and ended up killing a man. You had no identification on you, despite the wallet, and your name isn't listed anywhere, like you don't even exist."

Yohji was too doped up by the medication administered to him to tell the tale adequately and could only shrug, then nod and say a word or two. The nurse kept trying to push the investigator out the door, telling him to come back in a few days. 

The blonde stared at his bandaged hands whenever he wasn't trying to say something. He knew from his PI days it wasn't a positive thing to not look into the eyes of your interrogator, but shock still coursed through him as he knew two fresh, deep scars would mar his hands. 

"Sir, I really must ask you to leave now. If you don't, I fear the patient will become worse off and I don't believe he is in the appropriate state of mind to answer any questions you might have," the nurse tried once again. 

"I understand, however, I want to know exactly what happened while the incident is still fresh in mind," the investigator countered.

"It's my responsibility to see that this patient doesn't become too overwhelmed and I think he's still in shock. I can also remind you, sir, that he is on powerful drugs to keep the pain of the cuts. As I'm sure you're aware of, he had both hands run through with a knife." She sighed, the look on the policeman's face clearly not giving way. "I'll compromise with you, and let you come in two days… but if you set one foot inside this hospital, I'll see to it you won't be able to see him until he is released from the hospital."

The policeman returned his hat to his head and bid the nurse a curt farewell, telling her he'd be back in the two days.

That gave Yohji two days time to get his head together.

- - - 

Next chapter: Yohji gets questioned, lectured, and banned. Manx gets a headache and Aya gets responsibilities.

- - -

Author's Notes: ^^;; It'll get better. Concerning Yohji's earrings, I didn't know what to do. I've looked through my entire gallery of Weiss Kreuz pictures several times over and there was no definite Yohji has one, two, or no earrings. So, here he has both ears pierced. Concerning the hand wounds… if you ever come across the foreign film "Princess Blade," you'll see the enemy slice open the main character's hand with a katana and lodge her sword into the dirt. Obviously, the idea of the pocketknives wasn't mine. 

Reviews aren't necessary for me to continue, however they are MUCH appreciated. ^.^ 


	2. Motivation

**Chapter Two: "…just aren't as motivated to purge this world…"**

Author: Hot Soup11

The schedule was the same as it always was: get up, shower, set up shop, work until Omi came home, and kick open Yohji's door for his shift to start.

Before climbing the stairs to complete the last of the ritual, Aya sighed and rubbed his temple with his thumb. He had taken a hit from a burly henchman and ended up colliding with the wall on the last mission; and although he took painkillers, they hadn't seemed to kick in just quite yet. 

As always, just in case Yohji was actually _awake_, the redhead knocked on the door before jiggling the handle… to find no one there. Aya knew Yohji fell into depression at times, as they all did, and he escaped with clubs and women, not returning for a day, sometimes day and a half. The situation hadn't occurred for awhile, so Aya decided he'd only yell at him mildly. In the meanwhile, he'd have to help Omi downstairs as Ken was coaching soccer.

- - -

Two days later, as promised, the investigator returned and Yohji was sent to him via wheelchair despite his complaints. 

_Faults are_, Yohji began his checklist before arriving at the private room, _telling him my name in previous questioning, killing a man, killing a man using weapon, loosing weapon, not finding some way to communicate with Weiss._

"Greetings Kudoh-san. I trust you are in better health?" the policeman asked.

Better health… was questionable… but a weaker medication allowed him to speak and think coherently. "Not quite, but I'll heal," he flippantly replied.

"I'm sure. Now, let's start all over from the beginning." He paused to switch on a tape recorder. "Tell me in your own words, what you were doing on Wednesday November 20 at three in the morning."

"I was at a bar, getting drunk. I took a taxicab up there so I wouldn't have to worry about driving back home." He wondered if Seven was in the impound lot yet. By now the meter _must_ have run out… tch... like Yohji would ever take a _taxi_ when he could avoid it. "The bartender sold me a bottle for the road; I finished that off and decided to go to a grocery store for a pack of beers. Get the beers, those guys get out their guns to rob the store, and one of them comes up to me and tells me to give him my wallet and earrings. Fight breaks out; I get knocked down and end up with their knives in my hands." 

"We found this," the policeman stated curtly, then threw Yohji's watch on the table. "Our department figured out how to work it. Tell me why exactly you might be in possession of this sort of weapon."

"It's… a watch."

"Please, Kudoh-san, we saw the marks from the wire on the robber's throat, now _why_ do you have this?"

"You see, sometimes I get food stuck in my teeth. You know, when you're on a date and you've got all this--"

"No fool would mistake this for floss."

The door opened abruptly, saving Yohji from whatever nonsense he was going to have to feed the cop next. 

"Thank you for doing your job, sir, we'll be taking over this case now," Manx stated brusquely. Birman entered and waltzed over to the tape recorder, turning it off and pulling out the tape. 

"Under whose authority--"

Manx placed a folder into the hands of the policeman, stood back, and crossed her arms, glaringly impatiently at the man. The man took his leave unwillingly, leaving the Kritiker agents with the wounded assassin.

"Yohji you absolute _moron_," Manx insulted. She picked up his watch off the table and viciously threw it at him. "You nearly exposed us! What made you think you could get away with killing people _just like that_?! We should have _let_ you stay here and sweat it out with the police station. There was no _target_. You weren't on a _mission_. And you _murdered_ someone."

"I was _drunk_, Manx. It was in self-defense. These guys wanted my watch, okay? What would you have like better: common thieves pawning it, or me killing some evil in this world, like I normally do?"

"Drunk? That's it then Kudoh: no more drinking. While we're at it: no women or clubs."

"Manx, you're not my mother. Don't think you can just _ground_ me like this," Yohji admonished.

Birman broke in, "You made a mistake, Balinese. Consider this… a probation, of a sorts."

 Yohji rolled his eyes and drawled, "Oh, and who'll be my "probation officer," _you _Manx?"

- - -

"We can accept missions or refuse to take them. That is the way of Weiss. Forcing me to take responsibility for his actions is ludicrous."

"Aya, this is a command. As Omi has school and Yohji could get Ken to let him out of the Koneko, you are the only one we can rely on."

"Abyssinian, you know what will happen if you disobey a direct order from Persia…" Manx threatened casually.

The katana-wielding assassin held his tongue for a few moments before nodding in agreement. 

_What Yohji did shouldn't be punished. He_ is _right. We kill evil._ He gritted his teeth and began walking up the stairs, then turned towards the Kritiker agents. 

"Where is he hospitalized?"

Birman followed him up the stairs and handed him a mission folder. "Everything you need to know is in here."

_They're treating this more like a mission than anything else. Yohji's "probation" shouldn't even happen. They don't know what it's like to have an innate ability to just serve out death, even justly deserved._

Abyssinian turned abruptly on his heel and slammed the door behind him.

"Hmm… do you really think six months is going to change anything?" Birman asked thoughtfully.

The redhead put her head in her hands and kneaded her temples. "Not at all, I just hope he's more careful. Aya's not going to go easy on him even if he does think Balinese is right. Balinese could have completely exposed Kritiker… but we really too much upon Weiss already. We can't operate without them… the other teams… just aren't as motivated to purge this world."

"That's what I thought," her brunette partner sighed in reply.

- - - 

After a full week of hospitalization, Yohji was definitely ready to leave. He figured he'd take a cab back to the Koneko and get one of his teammates to check the whereabouts of Seven.

Much to his surprise, Aya was waiting with his own car to pick him up. The implications lead him to believe _he_ was the probation officer.

"This'll be one helluva six months…" Yohji muttered under his breath before reaching Aya.

- - -

Next Chapter: Rules and boundaries are established.

- - - 

-_-; I suck at updating. It's been busy over here, but things have cleared up and the chapters will be longer and better than this one. This was mostly done in a rush; excuse the choppiness and lack of an in-character Aya.

A big thank you for reviewing to: tmelange, BruisedSkys, Xellas, Katana, seven7, Misura,  tyne, Vampire Louis, Foxie, annakas, Miss Kitty, and takoyn Kudou!

Reviews aren't necessary for me to continue, however they are MUCH appreciated. ^.^


	3. Grocery Adventure

**Chapter Three****: "…thus ending their adventure in grocery shopping."**

Author: Hot Soup11

- - -

Yohji sat in the passenger side seat trying not to register the feeling of his dirty clothes sticking to his improperly cleaned skin. Not wanting to see Aya's reaction to having to pick him up from a hospital after "illegally" killing an attacker, he turned his attention to the passing scenery.

"Yohji," Aya's deep voice startled the blond out of his reverie.

"A-aa, Aya?" Yohji asked somewhat nervously. _This is ridiculous!_ He thought about his body's reaction. Despite the ludicrousness of the situation, Yohji did _not_ want to deal with Aya's fury.

Despite his decision simply to lay out the facts, the katana-wielding assassin's anger with Kritiker for forcing the probation caused his hands to clutch the steering wheel tighter. "I am under direct order from Persia to keep you under close speculation for the next six months. Until your wounds have healed, only Siberian and Bombay will be taking on missions. My instructions tell me to keep you away from alcohol, night-clubs, and your female… acquaintances. Unless you have my supervision, you are not to leave the Koneko grounds under punishment of a longer term," Aya stated monotonously, all the while staring straight forward at the road.

Yohji swallowed thickly and tightened his fingers' loose grasp around the casts. It was unsettling to be the victim of Abyssinian. He turned toward Aya, watching the younger man grip the steering wheel to the point where his already pale skin turned abnormally white.

_Aya's_ angry? Yohji fumed. _How can_ he _be the angry one? It's not like I_ asked _for a babysitter!_

"Look here Aya, I didn't kill him on purpose!" he nearly shouted. The car jerked to a halt in front of a red stop light.

Aya settled a glare on Yohji, wondering just what his teammate was on about.

"Tch," Yohji spat through his teeth vehemently when he received no response. He resumed staring out the window at the dirty city buildings as Aya accelerated the car through the intersection.

The awkward silence that filled the vehicle was broken only several minutes later by the very human noise of Aya's stomach growling. Aya, having taken the print out of directions immediately from Omi's hand as they were sent from Kritiker via computer, hadn't stopped to eat lunch before leaving to pick up Yohji.

Realizing what little free time he had was shot by the presence of his blond teammate sitting next to him, Aya decided to indulge himself a little.

Yohji blinked rapidly when he heard Aya's stomach complain of emptiness. Aya didn't _do_ things like that. It wasn't that Yohji thought the redhead was inhuman he just… didn't expect Aya to do things that Yohji did, like get hungry. Aya got mad, Aya got frustrated, Aya was stone-faced, and Aya went to hell and back avenging his sister. It was easier to neatly categorize the younger assassin than think of, say, all the things that he does with his spare time... time that he'd now be sharing with the redhead. He admitted to himself that he didn't want to spend six months with the man sitting next to him. None of Weiss knew Aya too personally, besides what the redhead willingly gave of himself, which wasn't anything to brag about.

Aya flicked the blinker on and made a right turn into the nearest grocery store parking lot. Yohji seemed disinterested enough about their whereabouts, so he didn't offer any explanation. Seeing a parking spot, he carefully avoided all the middle-aged females bustling into the store to buy whatever compelled them to make the trip out of the house. The redhead turned off the ignition, slipping the key into his pocket, and turned to his right, staring at Yohji expectantly.

Feeling a pair of eyes on him, Yohji jumped slightly, and met Aya's gaze squarely with an expression of befuddlement splashed across his features. The blonde blinked, shifting his eyes around and caught sight of the grocery store's front sign. "Maa… Aya, what are we doing here?"

"I'm buying food."

"Hm. Am I allowed in with you," Yohji drawled sarcastically, "or am I supposed to stay in the car, officer?"

Aya's eyes narrowed as he opened the door and started to get out. "Do what you want, but without the heat on, the car will be cold."

Yohji rolled his eyes and followed his fellow assassin into the supermarket. "So what kind of food are we buying today?"

_Why does Yohji have to be so… _irritating Aya complained silently. Judging from his attitude, the older man wasn't going to make the upcoming half year any more pleasant than the situation implied. Without dignifying Yohji's question with an answer, the redhead picked up a basket and headed straight for the junk foods. And while Aya knew it was more than beneficial (and completely necessary) to his job to maintain a healthy body, with Yohji to watch over, he felt he could allow himself this time to divulge in a habit from his past—gorging on junk food. Pocky, chocolate, pretzels, chip, and whatever sweets in the aisle of the grocery store went into the little red basket.

Yohji trailed behind Aya, watching the other assassin's actions with conflicting emotions on his face—he didn't know whether to be amused or just plain confused. Aya was buying… junk food. The thought didn't quite process in his mind. Previously, through Omi's rumor, he heard that Aya harbored a sweet tooth, but seeing him go through the candy section like he was pillaging a town was something else.

Soon the two members of Weiss found themselves in the checkout line, Aya's basket laden down with food and Yohji holding a new lighter and several packets of cigarettes. It didn't seem to bother Aya they were shopping together, but Yohji suspected he was still angry about having to tote around his fellow assassin.

After Aya had paid, the blonde set his purchases in front of the store employee and reached for his wallet, only to remember he hadn't received his wallet back from the police; they confiscated it as 'evidence,' telling him he'd get it back at a later date. "Ah… Aya?" Yohji hesitated asking looking sheepishly over at the redhead. "Can I borrow some cash? I'll pay you back when we get back to the Koneko… they… kept my wallet."

Aya rolled his eyes and looked mildly annoyed, but still uncrossed his arms to fish his wallet back out and handed Yohji the amount of yen he needed. "Thanks." Yohji grinned at the katana-wielder and turned back towards the cashier, completing the transaction. The pair walked out of the store, thus ending their adventure in grocery shopping.

Yohji knew better than to smoke in Aya's car, consequently, the recently bought cigarettes stayed in the plastic bag at his feet. Aya, on the other hand, ripped open a bag of some fattening, sugary substance and started the car, while popping candy into his mouth.

The atmosphere was still tense in the car while going back to the flower shop and Yohji desperately craved a cigarette. They lay at his feet, _tempting_ him. People who didn't smoke sometimes said smoking was a "social thing." Yohji was inclined to disagree, only due to the fact that he knew he was addicted to the calming effect of the nicotine, the smoking curling up, wafting under his nose, the feel the of the cylindrical paper in between his lips… and after the past few days, he felt he deserved _some_ kind of relaxation. He didn't deal well with stress and mistakes.

"Yohji."

The lanky man blinked, again brought out of thought by Aya. They were outside the Koneko. He reached down for his bag enthusiastically and pulled out the cheap lighter and cigarettes, tearing open the pack and pulling one out, lighting it up immediately. He opened the car door, stepped out, and took a long drag. He shut the door, then closed his eyes and exhaled.

When he opened his eyes he was surprised to see Aya in front of him, plucking a cigarette from the pack in the blonde's hand. Masking his surprise, he sparked the lighter and offered it to the redhead.

For a while they just leaned against Aya's car, smoking. Aya flicked the stub of the cigarette on the ground and crushed it under his foot, saying, "I would have done the same." He then turned and walked into the flower shop.

Ready to pull his hair out in frustration, Yohji stared at where Aya had just been standing. _WHY is he so CONFUSING?_

- - -

Next chapter: Changes in routines and schedules; and that ominous first day of adjustment.

- - -

A/N: I know virtually nothing about smoking, so excuse my lame descriptions. The junk food thing came from the first episode when Omi said Aya would just get that kind of food. ;


	4. Mind Over Matter

**Chapter Four: "Mind over matter."**

Author: Hot Soup11

* * *

Blinking wearily, Aya rolled to his side and through blurred vision registered the time from his steadily ticking clock.

_4:29_

He had never been able to sleep particularly well since he started working for Kritiker, and his internal alarm clock never failed to rouse him early in the mornings. The redhead rubbed at his eyes and pushed his sheets off himself. After stepping out of his bed, he immediately turned around and made the bed, straightening the sheets and smoothing the comforter down.

The assassin changed from his night clothes to workout clothes, grabbing his katana and heading to the roof of the Koneko. With the apartments they lived in so small, Aya found the roof the only suitable space available to run his forms. He walked down the hall, passing Ken's apartment and finally reaching the stairway that led to the roof. Aya ignored the bitterly cold temperature, telling himself he'd be warm soon anyway from the physical exertion. _Mind over matter_, he thought in an almost chiding manner.

Before his maternal grandfather died, he began teaching Aya martial arts; intending on passing down the family tradition to the only male available at the time. His mother had come from a family boasting only two girls as his grandmother died shortly after giving birth to his aunt. Something of a sexist in concerns to martial arts, he decided against teaching either of his daughters, waiting until one of them bore him a grandson. He was a strict instructor, Aya recalled, and a bitter man… but the skills he learned under his grandfather's tutelage were invaluable… including the lesson of 'mind over matter.'

The assassin went through his regular routine of stretches, both dynamic and static, still slightly caught in a reverie of memories.

Shortly after Takatori killed his parents and put Aya-chan in a coma, he was sent to live with his mother's sister. But… misfortune seemed to follow him even there: his aunt and uncle died in a car crash.

Aya looped his sword through his pants and unsheathed it slowly in a sideways arc, beginning the first of many exercises.

By the time of his aunt and uncle's funeral, he was positively disgusted with the world and frustrated that he could do nothing. However, after about a week of moping around an empty house, someone broke into his deceased relatives' home, more than likely assuming no one would be around.

Slash, step forward into a front stance, slash middle, front kick…

He remembered the sloppy movements he made in panic and fear as the thief's shaky hand held a switchblade pointed in the teenager's direction. It was his first kill, and what led Kritiker to take notice of him. He ran away from the house and the dead body inside it, carrying nothing but the katana his grandfather passed down to him. Kritiker caught up with him days later and then covered up the whole incident. He went through training, joined the Crashers, and after that, Weiss.

By now he was sweating and definitely didn't mind the wind blowing threw his loose clothes. Leaning against the wall near the stairwell, Aya slid down into a sitting position, his sheathed katana propped up by his shoulder. Judging by the first light of dawn slowly seeping over the skyline of the city, he figured the time was around six o'clock.

There was once a time in Aya's life when he slept in, only getting up to reach over for the current book he was reading. His sister would bounce in carting a stuffed animal and curl up next to him, expecting him to read aloud.

He reminisced far too much for his own liking, but… memories never ceased to rekindle his reasoning for becoming an assassin.

The redhead left the rooftop and showered immediately after returning to his apartment.

* * *

"Morning Aya-kun!" Omi greeted as Aya entered the shop. "I was just leaving for school, but Ken should be down to help set up in a few minutes. Is Yohji going to be able to help me when I come home?"

Aya paused briefly before responding, "Yohji won't be of much use during rush hours, so Ken and I will have to help you this afternoon while Yohji and I take this morning." _If I'm the one in charge of Yohji's activities, he'll have to conform to _my_ schedule…_

"Mm, that'll work. See you this afternoon!"

Aya nodded in Omi's direction and the blond teenager went out to the garage for his scooter. Aya grabbed his apron and the store keys, tying the apron around his waist as he walked over to the front door to unlock it. He slid open the metal shutter and sunlight illuminated the small flower shop. He then propped the door open and set up the red- and white-striped canopy in the front of the shop by arranging the cloth supported by two metal poles. As he was about to head in to put some potted arrangements outside, a yawning Ken walked outside to join him.

"Hey, Aya," greeted the brunette. "Do you want me to start bringing out stuff from the back or set up inside?"

"Set up out here, but you need to help Omi in the afternoon, so once you're done out here, you're free to go."

"I can't work this afternoon, I've got soccer coaching to do!"

"It can't be helped," Aya replied, pushing past Ken to get into the shop. "With Yohji in his current condition, he's useless during rush hours."

"So he takes _my_ shift even though I've got to be somewhere?" he complained as he followed Aya in.

"Ken," Aya began, unlocking the register and briefly checking through the money stored in it, "I have a mission assigned to me. I need to watch over Balinese and I don't need you making it any more difficult than it already is."

An annoyed expression etched on his face, Ken muttered, "Geez, thanks Yotan," but picked up a potted plant and headed outside anyway.

Aya closed up the register after making sure the balance was correct, and decided it was about time Yohji came down to help. "Momoe-san," Aya acknowledged when he passed the elderly woman sitting in her chair to go to the apartments upstairs.

"Good morning, Aya-kun," Momoe replied.

Trekking up to the second level of the building, the assassin rapped firmly on the door to Yohji's living quarters.

* * *

The norm for Yohji was cursing the rising sun as he stumbled in from a particularly late night out; today, however, he considered himself lucky to witness such a thing; he was just that damn bored.

The medication administered to him upon leaving the hospital knocked him out very shortly after he took it, and with all the stress of not knowing how he was going to slip out of that situation relatively unscathed, he crashed for a solid ten hours—which was much more sleep than he usually got. Yohji felt refreshed and itched for something to keep himself busy. Early morning television was out of the question, nothing worth watching was on; the blond, while enjoying a decent read every now and then, had no habit of keeping books lying around; and he kept his apartment clean enough, so there weren't any chores waiting for him to finish. It was too early for a smoke… and Yohji didn't really feel like one right now anyway.

_I suppose I_ could _go down and work… but where's the fun in that?_ Yohji reasoned with himself.

With nothing to do, he found himself staring at the massive orange blob slowly coming into view.

The pain medication was doing its job well as the blond man felt hardly any discomfort in his hands, but he didn't like moving them extensively. Lying in bed before he decided he wasn't able to sleep any longer, Yohji experimented by wiggling his fingers ever so slightly, but felt the awkward stretch of the skin of his hands tug at the stitches and at the same time the confinement of his movements because of the castes.

By the time the sun had stopped moving, Yohji had yet to think of something to occupy his time with, so he went about readying himself for the day. He showered, scrubbing away all the grime the nurses and their sponge bathes didn't quite get at (although, there had been a particularly adventurous, busty nurse that came in once, he didn't mind her company in the slightest) and finally ridding himself of the hospital smell that followed him home. After changing, he decided to make breakfast, only to find one box of cereal as his choice. Yohji never kept much breakfast foods around as he generally wasn't awake for the meal. As he was pouring the cereal into a paper bowl, he heard someone knock at his front door.

The blond walked over to the door and unlocked it to reveal Aya, stoic as ever. "Morning Ayan, what can I do for ya?" Yohji greeted as he leaned his shoulder against the doorframe.

"You'll start taking the morning shifts with me, be downstairs in fifteen minutes," the redhead stated, leaving no room for argument; which, of course, Aya had expected. Yohji didn't take the flower shop job seriously; rather, it was secondary to assassination and life outside of work. Aya supposed that with his lack of a personal life, the flower business became important to him, not something to skive off on. The shop was a distraction.

Flowers, why would they pick _flowers_ for assassins to sell? There were times when he hoped the scented vegetation covered the odor of the blood and gore smeared across their clothing when they trudged back in late-night from missions. It made him paranoid to think of customers coming in and becoming suspicious of the four males that worked there.

"Okay," Yohji responded, watching his teammate mulling over some subject he knew not about.

There was an awkward pause as Aya remembered where he was and what purpose he had for going there, and then the redhead realized he would not be dragging Yohji downstairs to the shop kicking and screaming.

Yohji could read the confusion in Aya's body language well enough, but couldn't begin to guess _why_ the swordsman was confused.

"See you in the shop, then," the younger assassin muttered before walking down the hallway to the stairs.

Shaking his head to clear it of the strange encounter with his even stranger coworker, the blond turned back to his breakfast only to find his cereal had gone stale quite some time ago.

* * *

Despite having been ready (and bored of meandering around his apartment, no less) Yohji showed up _twenty_ minutes later… he couldn't have Aya thinking he'd bend to his word exactly.

"You are five minutes late," came the predictable statement from the redhead as soon as Yohji made his appearance downstairs.

Yohji smirked and shrugged, settling a level gaze at Aya over the top of his sunglasses. "I was a little longer than I had expected, it happens."

"Don't let it happen again." Aya glared at the playboy, but dropped the subject in favor of watering a fern.

Yohji's injury prevented him from doing most work, so throughout the day he ran the floor, helping customers and suggesting purchases; Aya tended to the plants and carrying out the larger plants to customers' cars; and Momoe took over the cash register, but had to leave for a lunch date with a woman she frequently played go and shogi with around noon.

"Ne, Aya, do we get a lunch break any time soon?" Yohji asked after escorting Momoe out the door.

"Ken usually gets both of us some take-out about now," he replied.

"Since I'm useless otherwise, why don't I go out and find some food?"

Aya's initial reaction was to say what Yohji suggested was a good idea, until he reminded himself of his current mission. "Let's… go together," the redhead decided somewhat hesitantly. "We'll close up for now."

Yohji nearly rolled his eyes. _Closing up for lunch that much of a pain, Aya? Or is it being around me that's got you so troubled?_ Biting back the sarcastic remark, he followed the redhead out the door.

The pair found themselves at a noodle cart a block down for the Koneko, each buying a bowl to bring back to the flower shop. They sat behind the counter, making use of the two stools located there.

Yohji had a difficult time with his utensils, but in no time figured out a way that was efficient enough. While eating, he noticed Aya picking through his yakisoba, fishing out the carrots and placing them all on one side of the dish. _Seems Aya's a picky eater… who'd have thought?_ The wire-wielder pretended to wipe his mouth with his napkin to hide his grin while he watched Aya so focused on riding his meal of the orange vegetable. He also noticed how while concentrating, red brows were drawn together, not necessarily in a frown, but more of single-minded intent, and how the left side of Aya's mouth quirked downward, but not the right.

He always made those kinds of odd observations about people… probably just the dregs of his investigation days, when reading people was part of the career. He turned back to his udon without a second thought.

When Omi came home, he always brought the rush of young girls with him. As much as he didn't mind the attention from females, his hand wounds were starting to bother him, and Ken came down to relieve him anyway.

Upon returning to his apartment, he popped a few painkillers and flipped on the television.

* * *

Aya was unsure whether or not Yohji would try to sneak out to go clubbing or bar-hopping, even injured as he was, so he decided to forgo sleeping that night and have a stake out inside Yohji's apartment.

Which was why he currently sat on one of Yohji's bar stools right in front of his front door with a determined look and arms crossed.

When he told Yohji he would be staying up all night to make sure he didn't leave, Aya could have sworn he saw the blond trying to hold back laughter, but didn't take much note of it.

Aya stopped reading for a moment to glance at his watch.

_2:36 AM__. Kudoh was asleep three hours ago... looks like he's not leaving tonight._

He wasn't all that tired, but the redhead figured a nap might be nice. He'd be up in two hours anyway.


End file.
